


Kidnapped by You

by heylittleangel



Series: Supernatural Bingos [23]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: "Accidental" Cuddling, But not between Cas and Dean, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Dean Winchester Actually Deals With Feelings, Dean Winchester Confesses Feelings for Castiel, Dean Winchester Realizes Feelings For Castiel, Human!Castiel - Freeform, Hurt Dean Winchester, Idiots in Love, Kidnapping, M/M, Major Character Injury, Sharing a Bed, a kind of forced kiss, but it's NOT a case fic, it all starts because of a case, there's only one bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:15:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24059587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heylittleangel/pseuds/heylittleangel
Summary: If anyone asks, Dean will say he hates witches the most of all the monsters. But sirens are a pretty close number two.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Supernatural Bingos [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1459561
Comments: 4
Kudos: 122
Collections: Writers of Destiel Writer's Choice Bingo





	Kidnapped by You

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, peeps! How are y'all? How are you dealing with all the craziness? I hope well and that things are starting to look up wherever you are--if you're in Brazil, I know it's not and I can relate.
> 
> Well, hopefully, this will take your minds off everything for a while. This one is for a bingo again, with "Kidnapped by a Siren" for the Writers of Destiel Bingo and "Motel Room" for SPN Genre Bingo. I've put it in the tags but I'll say it again too: this is _not_ a case fic. I've chosen to focus more on Dean dealing with all of his feelings and all and not on the case. 
> 
> I do hope you enjoy it nonetheless! :D

He fumbles with the papers in his hands — what Cas and Sam managed to find about the case they are driving to — but Dean doesn’t pay any attention to them, even though he knows he  _ really _ should. Instead, he stares at Cas in his — Dean’s — human clothes, smiling brightly and cutely at the cashier as he pays, the corner of his eyes wrinkling with it. 

Dean tears his eyes from Cas when he turns to walk out of the convenience store and Dean pretends to be entertained with the articles in his hands, changing the sheet to another one. Cas’s footsteps get closer until he stops in front of Dean, handing him a large cup of coffee with a smile, his other hand holding the paper bag with their snacks.

Dean folds the papers and throws them on the driver’s seat before taking the cup from Cas’s hand, thanking him with a small smile. Their fingers brush, sending a shiver up Dean’s spine, but he covers it, taking a sip of the coffee — and burning his tongue in the process. 

Cas places the bag on the backseat and rests against the Impala by Dean’s side, crossing one foot over his ankle and slightly leaning on Dean. “Any idea what we could be dealing with?” Dean raises a brow, confused. Cas points at the articles. “About the case?”

“Oh, right.” Dean clears his throat, shaking his head. “Nope, nothing yet. There’s not much to go on with so I think we need to check the bodies.”

“We can go to the morgue tomorrow. We’ll probably arrive late in the city, so it won’t be worth it to check on anything tonight.”

Dean hums in agreement, pushing himself off the door. “We’ve got a few hours of driving yet so we should go. The faster we get there, the faster we can wrap the case.”

Cas nods, taking Dean’s cup from his hands — and not caring about Dean’s scoff;  _ he’s always stealing my coffee _ — before walking to the passenger’s side. “I’ll check on motels in the city so we don’t have to drive around to find one.”

“That sounds good.”

Cas smiles at him before opening the door and stepping inside. Dean sighs lowly before opening his own door.  _ This is going to be a long drive and an even longer week. _

* * *

They actually get to the city pretty soon and they drive straight to one of the motels Cas found; a nice, clean one, a lot better than they’re used to, so Dean can’t complain. He stops in the parking lot and Cas says he’ll get them a room while Dean gets their bags. Dean hums in agreement, lips quirking up when Cas smiles at him before he steps out of the car.

Dean lets his head rest against the wheel, closing his eyes as he sighs. One smile from Cas and he’s almost far gone already; how the hell is he supposed to deal with it for a whole week — if it doesn’t take them longer to figure out this case. Dean is, for sure, gonna spill the beans if he’s not careful — which he hardly ever is.

Damn him for agreeing on going on a hunt just him and Cas and damn Cas for having such great puppy eyes — Sam is for sure teaching Cas how to do those, that’s the only explanation, they’re even starting to be more useful than Sam’s; though Dean’s pretty sure it has more to do with the fact that he can’t deny Cas anything than anything else. Dean walks out of the car and to the trunk to open it, shaking his head; okay, maybe he  _ does _ want to spend some more time with Cas, just the two of them, even though he knows it isn’t the best idea.

Why the hell did he have to find out about his feelings? He spent years without acknowledging them, pretending it was nothing, and being able to hide them so well he would even think they weren’t real. But none of that worked for anything when he saw Cas in sweatpants and an older shirt from Dean, drinking tea from his stupid cute bee mug and reading a book in the middle of the night in the kitchen. 

It’s not like that was an unusual scene for Dean; Cas actually does that a lot and Dean finds him like that more often than not during his midnight snacks. But something that day snapped something in Dean’s mind; the domestic feeling of that, of sitting by Cas’s side as their arms touched and watching him read the book out loud as Dean ate made Dean realize that he loves Cas. That he loves  _ loves _ Cas, something he hardly ever felt before. Only something close to it with Lisa and Cassie.

Dean closes the trunk with a heavy sigh, placing their duffels on top of it. He’s so far gone that it isn’t even funny anymore. 

He grabs the paper bag and the papers from the backseat just as Cas walks out of the office, adjusting his jacket over his neck. Dean takes Cas’s duffel, handing it to him before grabbing his own. Cas nods for Dean to follow him, walking to the stairs on the right side of the motel. He looks around as he walks behind Cas, listening to the TVs playing in the rooms, some people talking with muffled voices.

Cas stops in front of the door number 189, placing the key card on the door and unlocking it. He hesitates with his hand on the doorknob, turning to Dean with a frown. 

“Dean, I hope you won’t be mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad at you, Cas?”

Cas pushes the door open, eyes staring down. “They only had bedrooms with one bed.”

Dean’s eyes widen when he looks at the one and only king-size bed in the middle of the room. Plenty of space if it wasn’t for the fact that Dean’s going to have to share with Cas; the guy he’s been crushing on for months, the one that he can barely stop himself from blurting out stupid stuff — like how cute Cas looks in Dean’s old Zeppelin shirt or how great he smells — whenever he’s around him. And now they’re going to share a bed and stay mere inches apart the whole night?

Yeah, Dean’s  _ definitely _ not going to last.

* * *

Cas takes over the shower immediately while Dean says he’ll get them something to eat. He finds a diner close to the motel that looks good enough; it’s 80’s themed, colourful, with lots of tables, stools, and different posters on the walls. There’s a Queen song playing in the speakers, to which Dean happily moves his head along to.

It’s mostly empty as Dean walks to the stools, smiling at the older couple a few tables over. He sits in front of a waiter, accepting the menu he hands him and carefully reading it. He chooses burger and fries for him and Cas—thankfully, Cas has the same taste as he does and not Sam’s— and then he asks two slices of pie to go. 

The waiter smiles at him before saying it’ll be ready soon. Dean busies himself with his phone, checking news about the city and the police database. There’s not much about the deaths, which Dean doesn’t find surprising; in a small town like this, the police probably isn’t so worried about putting things online. Which means he and Cas are  _ really _ gonna have to pay the station a visit, and probably the morgue too.  _ So fun. _

Sam checks up on them, asking if they got there okay and if they have anything new. Dean tells him that they don’t, that everything seems quiet for now, and that they’ll go check in with the cops and the morgue the next day. Sam says he’s keeping alerts on anything and that he’ll let them know if he finds anything and for them to check in with him. 

_ We’ll let you know,  _ Mom _ ,  _ Dean sends back. 

He only chuckles when Sam tells him to fuck off, putting his phone back in his pocket as the waiter hands him the bags.

Dean pays and walks back to the motel, shivering with the cold breeze that tries to get under his jacket and freeze him to death. He steals a few fries on the walk, enjoying while they’re still hot and crunchy, and looking around the neighbourhood. Everything’s quiet and peaceful and you can barely tell three people were gruesomely murdered there in the past week. It even looks like a place you could raise your children and meet all of your neighbours; the whole apple pie, white picket fence thing.

The motel is even quieter, almost all of the lights out, and only then does Dean check his watch: 11:56 pm. Later than he thought it was and it explains why everything’s so quiet. 

He puts the keycard against the lock, pushing the door open and softly kicking it closed. Dean puts the bags on the table, along with his keys, his wallet and his phone, dropping onto the chair after with a tired sigh. The room’s quiet and only the light of the bathroom is on, which makes Dean frown. He looks around, finding a big lump under the covers in the bed, a low snore coming from it.

Dean smiles as he stands up, toeing his boots off carefully and silently, and walks to the bed, sitting at the edge of Cas’s side and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Aren’t you hungry, Cas?” Cas groans under the blankets, mumbling something under his breath. Dean chuckles. “I got us burgers and pie. You should eat, our last stop was hours ago.” Cas groans again and Dean pulls the covers enough to show Cas’s face, his eyes squinted sleepily as he stares at Dean. “C’mon, buddy, you gotta eat.”

Cas ends up sighing, followed by a yawn. “Fine.” He looks up at Dean hopefully. “Did you bring fries too?”

“Of course I did.” Dean stands up and walks back to the table. “But you gotta get up, Cas, no eating on the bed, not after that last mess.”

Cas scoffs, pushing the blankets from him. “That was  _ one _ time, Dean, and I said I was sorry.”

Dean shrugs, sitting back on the chair and pulling the bag to him. “Yeah, well, we can’t exactly change the covers that easily or sleep in another room here, so no eating on the bed.”

He takes his and Cas’s burgers, putting them on the table, and then searching for the fries. Cas flops onto the chair by his side and they eat quietly, Dean stealing a couple of Cas’s fries and ignoring Cas’s  _ fake  _ ugly stare — the same one Dean does when Cas steals his coffee. Cas slips to the bathroom to brush his teeth after, saying Dean can have his slice of pie— which Dean happily accepts. 

Cas sinks back on the bed as Dean finishes his pie, murmuring a goodnight before he falls asleep again — quite fast too and Dean can’t help but feel jealous of him. Dean looks at Cas sleeping, not quite knowing why. It’s not something he has done before and he always said it was creepy when Cas did it. Still, Dean can’t force himself to look away because Cas looks so cute; his expression softened, mouth slightly open as he snores quietly, curled under the blankets and cuddled against the pillows, one arm hugging his pillow.

It’s only when Dean finishes his pie that he tears his gaze from Cas, shaking his head forcefully; he shouldn’t be doing that. Spending a week alone with Cas is going to be hard enough on it’s own, Dean doesn’t need to be staring Cas like a weirdo too.

He stands up, throwing the take-out bags in the trash, and then fumbles inside his duffel for clean clothes before going to the bathroom. Dean steps under the hot spray of water, sighing in relief as it relaxes his muscles. Hours and hours driving are getting up to him and he’s definitely getting too old for those.

When he feels like jelly, Dean turns the water off and dries himself quickly before dressing his pyjamas, not wanting to stay in the cold for too long. He brushes his teeth as he puts his dirty clothes back in the duffel, Cas muttering something sleepily when Dean hits his foot harshly on the bed; Dean has to keep himself from cursing out loud. 

He stays still for a few seconds, waiting to see if Cas will wake up, but he just rearranges himself on the pillows before going back to sleep. Dean sighs in relief and walks back to the bathroom to rinse his mouth, stifling a yawn as he turns the lights off.

Dean collapses on the bed, pulling the covers on top of him and fluffing the pillows. Cas is warm by his side and Dean almost wants to snuggle against him—not that he can but it would be good.

Instead, he closes his eyes and forces his mind not to think about Cas by his side, so close that Dean could touch him. 

* * *

Sleeping is actually easier than Dean thought it would be; he quickly drifts off, the bed warm and comfortable, his muscles relaxing despite the situation. He has a dreamless sleep for the first time in months and he feels well-rested when he opens his eyes in the morning. Dean almost wants to close them again, fall asleep for just a few minutes more, tightening his hold on the pillow he’s hugging.

Dean nuzzles his nose against it, sighing happily as he decides to give himself some more sleep time, when his pillows moves, groaning lowly. His eyes open wide and Dean feels all of his sleep leave him immediately. His  _ pillow is  _ actually Cas, who Dean is currently hugging from behind, his hand on Cas’s stomach and nose on the back of Cas’s neck.

He doesn’t know what to do; Cas seems to be still asleep, mumbling something under his breath as he buries his face against his pillow, oblivious to Dean cuddling him. Dean’s frozen, just staring at the mess that is Cas’s hair. He should move, right? Before Cas wakes up and finds out the awkward situation they’re in; Dean would rather it stays a secret that he’ll take with him to the grave. 

After minutes of contemplating the situation, Dean finally moves. Slowly, he raises his arm away from Cas, trying not to wake him up, until he can finally turn away from Cas. Cas moves a little, groaning sleepily, and Dean frozes as he waits;  _ please don’t wake up, please don’t wake up _ . 

When Cas goes still again, Dean breathes out in relief and lays on his back, staring at the white ceiling. How the hell did he cuddle with Cas during the night? Dean is usually a quiet sleeper if he doesn’t have a nightmare; he has slept in the same bed as Sam countless times and that never happened before — it sure would’ve been way weirder if it did. Still, Dean always kept to himself, no matter what. 

Good thing he was the first one to wake up, though; thank God for small mercies, right?

He pushes himself up, throwing his legs to the floor as slowly as he can. He checks the watch on the nightstand to see it’s late: 08:48 am. They should’ve wakened up earlier than that and should already be at the police station, almost leaving it. He sighs as he turns to shake Cas awake.

“C’mon, buddy, we overslept.” Cas groans, pulling the blanket to cover his face. Dean shakes his head and stands up, pulling the covers with him. “No sleeping more, Cas, it’s late and we have to go.” Cas buries his face against the pillow, mumbling something against it— Dean’s pretty sure it’s an  _ I hate you _ . “I’m gonna take a shower and I want you awake when I come out.”

Cas waves him off, adjusting himself on the bed and seeming to go back to sleep. Dean rolls his eyes, grabbing his duffel and placing on the bed. He rummages through it, taking his fed suit from it and clean underwear before walking to the bathroom. Dean leaves the suit — folded as neatly as he can — on top of the closed toilet. He closes the door behind him, taking his toothbrush and putting toothpaste on it. He brushes his teeth as he stares blindly at the mirror.

After rinsing his mouth, he steps in the shower and turns the water as cold as he can handle — Dean’s sure he’ll never come out if he turns it hot. He gets cleaned up as fast as he can, shivering under the water from toe to head. He turns the water off and gets dried quickly before wrapping the towel around his waist, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to get it dried. He dresses in the shirt, closing up the buttons quickly, and then moves to pull his pants up, tugging the shirt inside it.

Smoothing the wrinkles on the shirt, Dean opens the door and walks out of the bathroom, almost crushing against Cas — who, thankfully, is already dressed and looking ready to go; beside his bed hair, which is nothing new. Dean pretends they’re not basically pressed close together, clearing his throat and giving a small step back.

“Thought I was going to have to pull you out of the bed by force.”

Cas rolls his eyes with a soft sigh. “As much as I know you would enjoy it, there’ll be no need to.”

Dean chuckles, checking Cas’s clothes; as usual, his tie is completely crooked and Dean doesn’t think twice before stepping back close to him to redo the knot, smoothing his shirt afterwards, and then trying to fix his hair, brushing it to the side. Cas watches him with a small smile and his left eyebrow slightly up, and Dean suddenly feels self-conscious; it also reminds him of how close he was to Cas when he woke up. He walks backwards again, farther away this time, and turns to search for his own tie in his duffel.

“So,” he says as he hears Cas walking to the bathroom, “Breakfast and then hit the police station and the morgue?”

“Coffee sounds like a great idea.”

* * *

After making sure they’re both caffeinated enough to deal with the day and with people, Dean drives Cas to the morgue and then goes to the police station — just so it’ll be faster, it has nothing to do with the fact that Dean doesn’t even know how to look at Cas after the way they woke up this morning without turning into a complete babbling, blushing mess. 

He talks to the officers that found the bodies, shares doughnuts and coffee with them — sue him, he loves doughnuts— and goes through the files with them. There are a few witnesses for Dean to talk to and the guys the police found guilt; Dean isn’t sure he does too, but he needs to talk to them before anything else.

As he goes through one of the witnesses’ testimony, his phone rings and Dean excuses himself with a smile before fishing it out of his pocket and walking away. Cas’s name is on the caller and Dean pretends there aren’t any butterflies on his stomach when he answers.

“Heya, Cas. Anything useful from the coroner?”

“I have the toxicology reports from the three victims and from the killers, but I haven’t found anything that could tell us what we are hunting yet.” 

Dean nods to himself, walking back to the table. “I have the names and addresses from the witnesses. I can pick you up there and then we can go talk to them.”

“I’ll wait for you here. And Dean?” Dean hums, grabbing the files and smiling an excuse to the officers. “Can you get me some coffee?”

Dean rolls his eyes with a smile. “Sure, buddy. Want a doughnut too? The cops have amazing ones.”

“I would appreciate it.”

“Alright, I’ll be there in ten.”

Dean finishes the call and puts his phone back in his pocket, adjusting the files on his hand as he raises his head. A young policeman is already in front of him with a small box of doughnuts and a cup of coffee, an easy smile on his face, offering both to Dean.

“I heard you saying you wanted a few doughnuts and some coffee so I got them for you. “

“Oh, um, thanks.” Dean takes the box and the cup from his hands, frowning; he doesn’t remember saying anything about coffee. “Listen, I gotta go, pick my partner up, but thanks for the files and these,” he shows the box and the cup.

“No problem, agent.” The man smiles radiantly at him, his head slightly tilted, putting his arms behind his back. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need from me.”

“Will do.”

Dean stares at him for a second longer before turning on his heels and walking to the door.  _ Okay, that was weird. Was he… flirting with me?  _ He unlocks Baby, settling under the wheel as he looks ahead blindly. The cup of coffee and the box are still on his hands, the cup warming his palm enough to drag Dean away from his thoughts and shake his head with a sigh. He places the box carefully on the passenger seat — the last thing he wants is to get doughnut powder all over Baby — and then takes a sip from his coffee. 

After drinking almost half of it — he can stop and get a new one for Cas on the way — Dean finally turns the engine on and drives off. His whole day has been the weirdest so far; he overslept, which he hardly ever does, he cuddled with Cas in his sleep, and an officer just flirted with him out of nowhere, after obviously eavesdropping on his conversation. Dean’s not sure if he really is awake or if his mind is just having a really vivid, bizarre dream.

Ignoring it, Dean stops at a coffee shop to get Cas’s coffee — because, of course, he likes the weird ones, that have everything but coffee in them — and finally drives to the morgue. Cas is sitting on a bench outside of the morgue, papers on his hand as he frowns down at them. Dean smiles softly, shutting the engine off. He grabs the box, putting the files and his empty cup on top of it, and Cas’s coffee before stepping out of the car and walking towards Cas.

He throws his cup in the trash before sitting by Cas’s side, offering him his coffee. Cas raises his head to give him a smile, putting the papers down.

“Thank you, Dean.”

“Not a problem, Cas. So, what do you got?”

Cas hands him the papers, taking a sip of his coffee before replying, “Those are the toxicology reports. There’s nothing unusual on them aside of one thing in the ones from the victims: their oxytocin levels are up and the coroner doesn’t know what could have caused it.”

Dean hums, putting the box of doughnuts on Cas’s lap before taking the papers from his hands. He gives it a quick read at each of them, checking the levels on the victims; they all have basically the same numbers while everything else is normal. “Y’know, I think me and Sam worked on a case like this a few years ago. I’m sure there’s something in the database but I can give him a call, see if he remembers about it.”

Cas nods, placing the files between them and taking a doughut from the box. “Did you find out anything in the police station?”

“I got the witnesses' names and addresses and gave a quick read on what they told the cops. So far, it’s sounding a lot like just a normal case, nothing about monsters, but I wanna talk to the killers too.” Dean changes the page in his hand. “Most of them have said they didn’t do it, that they weren’t even home at the time, so that could mean something.”

“What do you want to do first?”

Dean shrugs, putting the papers down. “I think we can talk to the witnesses first, find out what they saw and if there’s anything that can help us before we talk to the killers.”

Cas nods, offering the box to Dean. He takes a doughnut. “Do you know with whom you want to start with?”

“Yeah. C’mon, I’ll tell you all about it in the car.”

* * *

Talking to the witnesses doesn’t give them any new insights but it helps Dean understand a little more about everything they said; also makes him more certain that they really need to talk to the “killers”. But, it’s already dark so they agree on doing it the next day; for now, all Dean wants to do is eat and then sleep, hoping he’ll finally get out of this crazy day he has found himself in.

Cas seems to agree with him when Dean leaves him in the dinner, saying Dean should go ahead and take a shower as Cas gets the food; nothing more than fair since Dean did it yesterday. Dean doesn’t object, just thanks him, telling him to be careful before he drives back to the motel.

The first thing he does when he gets to the room is to grab clean clothes and walk to the bathroom. This time, though, he turns the hot water on and steps under it, sighing happily when it starts to melt his tension. Dean spends as much as he can under it, needing to remind himself that Cas will want to take a shower too and he needs some of the hot water. Only then does he turns the water off— regretfully — and steps out of the shower.

He puts his sweatpants on, throwing his shirt over his shoulder before opening the door. Dean walks out of the bathroom, drying his hair with the towel, making his way to his duffel to grab a pair of socks. Someone clearing their throat behind him makes Dean turn with wide eyes, blushing when he sees Cas at the table, placing papers bags on it.

Dean hurries to pull his shirt on, getting confused with all the holes and almost ending up with it completely wrong. “I didn’t know you were here already, Cas.”

Cas smirks at him but it’s so fast that Dean’s not sure if he really saw it. “It’s okay, Dean. Though I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine.” Dean waves at the bags. “Got anything good?”

“I got us some tacos. I remember you enjoy them too and since we had burgers last night, I thought we could have something different.”

Dean smiles at him. “Sounds great, Cas, thanks.”

They sit at the table, Cas handing him the bags and saying what he got. They eat while they discuss about the case, making plans for the next day. Dean texts Sam, asking if he remembers anything about the case with the high oxytocin levels. They decide to open the Men of Letters database the next day, before they go out to talk with the killers. 

Dean brushes his teeth before Cas goes to take his shower, putting his toothbrush back in his duffel as Cas walks to the bathroom. He throws all the papers in the trash, organizing all the papers of the case neatly on the middle of the table, before throwing himself on the bed. Dean turns the TV on, determined to wait for Cas get out of the bathroom awake, but sleep gets the best of him; Dean’s eyes are closing without his permission in less than five minutes.

* * *

It’s, once again, one of the best nights of sleep Dean has ever had; that is, until at some point in the night, when his pillow insists on leaving the bed. Dean holds it tighter against him, mumbling something he’s pretty sure it’s supposed to be a  _ stay _ . His pillow chuckles at him, threading its fingers through his hair and saying it’ll be right back. Dean mumbles an agreement and lets it go before falling back asleep, tugging the blankets tighter around him.

The bed dips on the other side a few minutes later and Dean is quick to get his pillow close to him again, snuggling close to it. It’s warm and soft, and it threading its fingers through his hair lulls him back to sleep in no time.

When he wakes up in the morning, the other side of the bed is almost cold, as is the room. All Dean wants to do is curl himself under the covers and stay warm under them for the rest of the day. Sadly, the door opens, letting the sunlight right on his eyes and Dean groans, pulling the blankets on top of his head. He hears Cas chuckle and he only puts one hand out, flipping him off.

Soon, though, there’s the smell of fresh coffee and Dean knows he’ll have to get up; they have people to talk to, research to do if Sam didn’t remember about the case.

Before he can actually gather enough strength to get up, someone pulls the covers from him, exposing him to the cold air of the room, and Dean curses. He opens his eyes to see Cas staring at him with a mischievous smile as he holds the blankets on one hand and a cup of coffee on the other. 

“Damn it, Cas, why won’t you let me sleep?”

Cas lets go of the covers, stretching his free hand to Dean. He accepts it grumpily, letting Cas pull him to a sitting position and then taking the cup Cas offers him. “You complained we overslept yesterday, so I got up early today and went out to get us breakfast. I thought we could eat and go through the Men of Letters database to find out what monster we are dealing with.”

Dean groans, rolling his neck and shoulders to get rid of the tiredness and stiffness. “Great, that’s just what I want to do first thing in the morning.”

Cas only shrugs at him, walking to the table and sitting on one of the chairs. “At least we can eat while we do it.”

“Still sucks.”

But Dean does get up, taking his phone from the nightstand and following Cas to the table. He rests his legs on another chair, pulling the paper bag to him to rummage through it. They share their breakfast as they go through the Men of Letter’s database, reading and rereading the autopsy results and searching through the keywords. 

An hour or so in, Cas yawns, straightening his back against the chair and pulling his legs up to rest on Dean’s lap. Dean raises a brow at him, pointing at Cas’s legs. “Do I look like a chair to you?”

Cas shrugs, his lips pulling up in a smile. “You’re the closest to one here. And you’re resting yours on the last chair, so it’s only fair I can rest mine on you.”

Dean rolls his eyes, turning back to his laptop and letting Cas keep his legs on his lap. He grabs his cup before remembering it’s empty, pushing it away from him with a sigh. Dean rubs his eyes, trying to make them focus again, staring at his laptop and scrolling through the page he’s in. Cas seems to give up on research, threading his fingers together and putting them behind his head to support it. 

“C’mon, buddy,” Dean slaps his foot, making Cas open his eyes. “You woke me up so we could go through of this; don’t bail on me now.”

Cas groans, his head falling to his chest. “But we’ve been looking for so long and still haven’t found anything. I didn’t think it would be so hard to actually find out what we’re hunting.”

Dean shrugs, rubbing a hand on his face. “Yeah, I know. No one tells you about this part when you become a hunter, right? Just about the good ol’ slashing of monsters.”

Cas chuckles, nodding as he lowers his legs from Dean’s legs. They go back to work and Dean lets Cas pull the laptop to him as Dean grabs the files again. He tries to keep his mind blank and reread it as if it’s the first time, using a new sheet to make notes. He goes through the article that grabbed their attention, then through the autopsy results and the witnesses statements.

Something in Dean’s brain clicks; the witness said they saw the killers leave the house as if nothing had happened; there weren’t any struggle from the victims before they were killed, which means they actually knew their killer, and their oxytocyn levels were high. Dean has seen that before, though, that time, the  _ killers _ had high oxytocyn levels, not the victims.

“Cas, Cas,” Dean pokes his arm, pushing the autopsy results on his face. “I knew I had worked on a case like this before. Years ago, Sam and me caught a case where the husbands had killed their wives, and they all said they had a happy marriage and that they loved their wives. Their oxytocyn levels were also high and they said they weren’t sure why they had actually done it, just that a stripper had asked them too.” 

Cas frowns, taking the paper from Dean. “But this isn’t what is happening here, Dean.”

“I know, but it could be the same monster. It’s a siren. They poison their victims, can read minds, and they can change their appearance to attract someone, kinda like a shapeshifter.”

Cas hums, nodding. “So, the victims were poisoned and that’s why they didn’t fight against their killer?”

“Yeah.” Dean pulls the computer to him, typing ‘siren’ on the search bar. “And they looked exactly like their significant others, so they had no reason to. This siren could’ve been poisoning them for days or weeks before actually killing them.”

“So, this siren probably passes by someone’s partner to kill them?” Dean nods and Cas sighs. “Do we know how to kill them?”

Dean turns the computer to him. “We need to make it taste their own venom. When we hunted the siren, Bobby used my blood on a blade and stabbed the siren to kill him.”

Cas arches a brow at him, raising his hand from the laptop. “ _ Your _ blood?”

“Yeah, long story.” Dean relaxes against the chair. “I think we should still talk to the partners, see if they know anything that could help us find out where the siren’s staying; if there’s somewhere in common between all of them.”

“Okay.” Cas stands up, stretching his back. “I’ll take a shower and put the suit so we can go. Do you have the names of all of them?”

“Yep. I’ll get changed too.”

Cas walks to the bathroom and Dean turns the computer back to him, opening a new tab. He goes through the news — just to know what’s going on with the world — as the shower inside the bathroom is turned on, trying to distract himself. One encounter with a siren was one more than needed for a lifetime and Dean isn’t looking forward to having one more; that one, years ago, already made him need to face more facts about himself than he wanted to, what is this one going to do now? Dean really doesn’t want to know.

Sam calls when Dean fixing his tie in front of the mirror, and Dean presses the phone between his ear and shoulder. “‘Sup, Sammy?”

“Hey. I called to see if you guys found out what you’re hunting yet. You texted me about that case but I don’t remember about it”

“Yeah, we figured it out. I think it’s a siren, fits pretty well and I don’t know any monster that makes someone have high oxytocin levels.”

“Oh, right, the siren, I had forgotten about it. But… isn’t this M.O. completely different?”

Dean finishes the knot on the tie and walks to sit on the bed. “Yeah, well, I don’t think they all have the same M.O.’s. They don’t actually walk in pairs or anything.”

Sam sighs on the other line. “Yeah, guess you’re right. Any idea where it may be?”

“We’re gonna talk to the partners and see if we can find a place in common between them. Hopefully, it’ll help us find out.”

Cas opens the door of the bathroom with his shirt unbuttoned as Sam replies, “Call me if you need anything.”

Dean only hums, staring at Cas as he walks to stand in front of the mirror to button the shirt up. Dean tries not to stare, he really does, but it’s kinda hard when Cas isn’t actually trying to cover his tanned chest, hands way slower than they should be in each button, and Dean’s pretty sure Cas catches him staring at him through the mirror and then he smirks.

Thankfully, Dean’s phone rings again and Dean has an excuse to stand up and walk away, keeping his back to Cas as he asnwers the phone, “Hello?”

“Agent. I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“No, no, of course not, officer?” Dean cringes, trying to remember his name.

“Ragar. Officer Ragar.”

“Right, right, of course, I’m sorry. Did you need anything?”

“Yes, I remember you mentioning that you wanted to talk to the suspects.”  _ I did? Didn’t I only think about asking Cas about that? _ “We’ve got them transferred to another station and I thought I could join you if you need.”

“Thanks for the heads up but my partner and I can take care of it, don’t worry.”

“Oh,” does the guy sound… disappointed? “Well, let me know if you need anything else.”

“Will do, thank you.”

Dean hangs up with a frown, turning to meet Cas’s confused stare. “Everything okay?” he asks, walking to Dean.

“Yeah, just this officer that gave me the files yesterday. He said the suspects were transferred to another station and asked if I wanted help.” Dean puts his phone back in his pocket. “He even sounded, I don’t know, kinda sad?”

Cas’s brow knit in a frown. “That’s weird.” He stops in front of Dean, pointing to his tie. “Can you fix it for me? It ends up crooked every time I try.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” 

Dean clears his throat before raising his hands to knot Cas’s tie, fingers brushing Cas’s chest sometimes until he’s done. Dean closes the first button before pulling the know a little higher, smoothing the wrinkles on the shirt and fixing the collar, and steps back with a small smile. 

“There.”

Cas smiles at him, thanking Dean and tugging the shirt inside his pants. Dean grabs his suit jacket, putting his arms through the sleeves and grabbing the car keys and his wallet. Cas takes the files and Dean turns to him.

“Ready?” Cas nods and they walk out of the room, locking the door behind them.

* * *

They don’t find much in their interviews with the suspects; they don’t have lots of places in common and only a couple actually know each other. It’s a dead end. One thing they all do have in common is the fact that they all say they didn’t do it; they all have pretty good alibis, people that can confirm they were out of the house, and they all say they would’ve never murdered their significant other, that they loved them.

Dean feels kinda bad for them because he knows how it feels like to be considered guilty about something that isn’t your fault. Still, there’s nothing they can do. It’s not like he and Cas can just go to the cops and say someone looking  _ exactly _ like the suspects killed everyone and expect that’ll work.

Officer Ragar gets there just as they are about to leave and it takes all of Dean’s self-control not to snap at the guy when he tries to find an excuse to keep him there for longer; Dean really doesn’t understand what the hell is happening, and why the guy keeps showing up out of nowhere, and how the hell he knows so much, and why does he always have a cup of coffee with Dean’s name on his hands?

Cas doesn’t look a lot better, his expression completely showing off how annoyed he is at the guy, and Dean almost thinks there’s some jealousy along with it. He forces himself to push that thought away as he excuses himself from the conversation with Ragar, coming up with any excuse to say goodbye.

He drags Cas out of the station as fast as he can without running, not stopping until they’re inside Baby and Dean’s driving off. Now that they’re away from Officer Ragar, Cas’s expression softens and he even opens a smile. Dean only gives him an ugly stare.

“Don’t even start it, Cas.”

“I didn’t say anything, Dean.”

“Yeah, and you don’t need to. It’s bad enough that the guy doesn’t leave me alone, I don’t need you talking about it too.”

Cas has the nerve to laugh at his face, rolling his window down to let the night breeze flow through the car. “I think he likes you, Dean.”

Dean groans, rubbing at his temple with one hand. “Ugh, please, don’t.”

Cas keeps laughing and Dean only slaps his thigh, telling him to shut it before smiling too. They stop at a restaurant to get some dinner before heading back to the motel. Dean claims the bathroom first, grabbing his pyjamas and toothbrush and closing the door behind him. He turns the hot water on, stepping under it as he brushes his teeth, letting the water fall on his head. There’s a small pain on the back of his head, that it’s starting to become annoying, and Dean feels weird; there’s a nagging sensation on his stomach and he doesn’t know what could be causing it. He only knows it has something to do with the case and that it should be a clue, but he can’t put his finger on what it is.

He pushes it out of his head as he walks out of the shower, thinking he must just be tired. It’s probably nothing and his mind can just be coming up with all of that; it has a tendency to do that.

Dean puts his clothes on before opening the bathroom door, the towel on top of his head as he walks to his duffel to put his toothbrush. Cas is on the table, going over the files with a pen between his teeth, brows knitted in a frown, and Dean stops by his side, looking at the paper on his hands.

“Cas, we can check those tomorrow. We haven’t found anything that still connects them and staring at them when we’re tired won’t help us find it. Go take a shower and then we look over it in the morning with fresh eyes,”

Cas sighs, putting the pen down. “There has to be something, Dean, we’re just not seeing it.”

“I know, buddy, and we’ll find it, just not tonight, okay? Four hours of sleep and coffee in the morning will help us.”

“Okay.” Cas stands up, turning to face Dean. “We should send these to Sam too, maybe he’ll be able to see something we aren’t.”

Dean nods, pushing Cas towards the bathroom. “I’ll send it while you take a shower.”

Cas stops to grab his duffel before walking to the bathroom, the door closing softly behind him. Dean takes his phone to take pictures of everything they got with the suspects and sends them to Sam. He dials Sam’s number and rearranges everything in order as the phone rings.

“Hey, Dean. Found anything?”

“Not much. I’ve sent you what we got today. We didn’t find anything in common between the suspects but we’re hoping you might see something we didn’t.”

Sam hums as Dean walks to the bed. “I’ll give it a look and I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks, Sammy.”

“No problem.”

Sam hangs up and Dean pulls the covers from the bed, putting his phone on the nightstand. He slides under the covers and turns the TV on, settling on the pillow happily, relaxing against the softness of it. Cas gets out of the bathroom pretty quickly, walking around the room without a shirt, and Dean’s pretty sure he’s doing it on purpose by now; getting more and more on Dean’s personal space, the excuses to touch Dean or for Dean to touch him, showing off more than he should — though Dean can’t deny it’s a pretty good view.

He clears his throat and moves his eyes back to the TV when Cas turns to him, pulling his shirt over his head and walking to the other side. The bed dips when Cas settles beside Dean, his face turned to Dean.

Dean turns the TV and the lights off before sliding down the bed, eyes facing up. “I sent Sam pictures of everything we got. He said he’ll give it a look and see if he can find anything.”

“Alright.” Cas seems to inch a little closer to him, but Dean just readjusts himself on his place, letting Cas’s body heat warm him and closing his eyes. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“G’night, Cas.”

* * *

Dean wakes up before Cas, slowly opening his eyes to stare a the ceiling. He rubs at his eyes, yawning, before realizing there’s a weight on his stomach. Dean looks down to see one of Cas’s arm around his torso and his head using Dean’s chest as a pillow. Dean freezes, afraid he might wake Cas up. How the hell is he supposed to stand up without moving and consequently waking up, Cas? Why does this have to keep happening?

He breathes out lowly, moving his hand slowly to Cas’s arm. He’s warm and soft, and Cas mumbles something when Dean closes his fingers around Cas’s wrist. He waits to see if Cas will wake up before raising Cas’s arm and slowly pressing it against Cas’s chest. Dean waits a few seconds, staring down at Cas to see if he’ll move or open his eyes, but he only adjusts his position, closing his hand in a loose fist and pulling it closer to him.

Breathing out in relief, Dean moves to carefully put one hand under Cas’s face. It’s way harder than it was with the arm, in a terrible position, and Cas complains a couple of times, eyelids fluttering for a few seconds, before Dean finally does it. He waits for quite a while like that, even as his arm starts to hurt, and then he slowly raises his hand to raise Cas’s head along, and slides away from him, pulling his pillow to place it under Cas. He then slowly moves his hand down until Cas’s face touches the pillow and pulls his hand away.

Dean can’t even believe he actually managed to do it without waking Cas up; one more awkward sitution avoided. 

He walks to the bathroom, grabbing his toothbrush on the way. Dean leaves the door slightly open, brushing his teeth sleepily without staring at the mirror. He’s halfway through peeing when he hears shuffling in the bed and Dean hurries up.

Cas is sitting on the bed, looking down at his phone, when Dean comes out of the bathroom, drying his hands on his shirt. Cas is already in jeans but still with his — Dean’s — sleep shirt. He raises his head to look at Dean, giving him a small smile. 

“I thought of heading out and getting us breakfast.”

“You did it yesterday, Cas, I can do it today.”

Cas waves him off, standing up and putting his phone in his pocket. “I don’t mind. Also, I like taking a walk in the morning to see the sun coming up.”

Dean rolls his eyes, smiling softly. “You big dork. If you really don’t mind, you can go. I’ll check with Sam to see if he found anything and then give another look at the files.”

Cas nods, grabbing his jacket and putting his arms through the sleeves. “Okay. Call me if you need anything.”

“Will do, buddy.”

Cas smiles at him before grabbing his keycard and leaving. Dean grabs his phone and settles on one of the chairs, pulling the laptop to him and turning it on. He reads Sam’s messages, saying he didn’t found much either but the fact that they all knew someone in the police station. Dean had noticed it too but he doubts it means anything; the city’s small and more than half of the city knows the officers and the deputy of the city anyway; it’s a long shot to think it has something to do with it.

He reads some of the news of the day, thanking the fact that there aren’t any new killings in the city, and then moves to reread their files. Dean has read them so many times he’s sure he knows them by heart by now, but he forces himself to reread it and try to keep fresh eyes; maybe he’s missing something that he didn’t pay attention to before.

Dean’s halfway through the second page when there’s frantic knocking on the door, making him jump in his chair. He hurries to his duffel to grab his gun, clicking the safety off and aiming it at the door. 

“Dean! Open up! It’s me.”

He frowns, standing up and walking slowly at the door. “Cas?”

“Yes! Come on, Dean, open the door.”

Dean slowly opens the door, staring at Cas behind it, brows knitted in confusion as he lowers his gun. “Didn’t you… take your keycard?”

“There’s no time, Dean! I know where the siren is and we have to go. Right now!”

Cas grabs Dean’s arm, trying to pull him, but Dean stops him. “How do you know where to go, Cas? What the hell happened?”

“Dean, someone’s life is in danger, we  _ have _ to go.”

That stops Dean from worrying about anything else, turning to grab his boots. “Fine.” 

Dean puts his boots hurriedly, not having time to get his jacket before Cas is pulling him to the door and to Baby. Dean hurries to unlock the door, stepping on the gas pedal and following the direction Cas points him to. Dean’s feet are loose in his boots and he’s already starting to feel cold in just a short-sleeved shirt, but the adrenaline keeps him from paying attention to it, his heart pounding on his chest.

They get to an abandoned warehouse —  _ Why do all monsters have to like these kind of places? _ — and Dean hurries out of the car, raising his gun as he walks to the front door. He can hear Cas’s footsteps behind him, not as light as he would’ve liked it, but Dean can’t argue with him about it right now.

He pushes the door open as slowly and quietly as he can, keeping his gun up as he forces his ears to catch any sound from inside. It’s dark inside and Dean has to squint his eyes to try and see anything. He hears the door being closed softly and he thinks he hears the sound of the lock clicking on, but Dean can’t be sure — it could just be the own door closing. He walks carefully through the warehouse, trying to find the siren, but it’s all quiet and he doesn’t find anyone; not even a drop of blood, ropes, a strand of hair. Nothing. Way too clean for a monster’s layer.

Dean stops when he gets to the middle of the room again, staring at Cas in front of him, who, by the way, looks completely relaxed and not at all worried; he has his hands buried in his pockets, staring at Dean with the right corner of his lip pulled up, the calmest expression on his face.

“Cas, what the hell? You said you knew where the siren was.”

“Oh, but I do know, Dean.” Cas walks closer to him, staring at him with his head tilted. There’s something strange and different about him that Dean just can’t put his finger on it. “I really thought you would be able to find out sooner. I have to admit; I wasn’t exactly  _ subtle _ with my approach to you, but you never even  _ thought _ about it.”

Dean frowns, giving a few steps back. “What are you talking about?” 

Cas smiles, his steps getting bigger whenever Dean steps back, until at the point that Dean’s back hits the wall and he has nowhere to run.

“Cas, what are you doing?”

“You’re about to find out.”

Cas holds his face with both hands, covering all of Dean’s cheeks, pressing him harder against the wall and gluing their lips together. Dean gets caught by surprise, eyes open as he stares at Cas, and he can’t force himself to move away because it actually feels good; it’s one of his wet dreams about Cas, that happens repeatedly  _ a lot of times _ .

Still, Dean can’t actually believe it’s happening and he finally pushes him away, walking to the side to get as much distance between them as he can. Cas only smiles, cleaning a droplet of blood from his lower lip. Did Dean do that?

“What the hell, Cas? Why did you kiss me?”

Cas shrugs, cleaning his hand on his jacket. “Well, I could’ve just sprayed you with the venom, but how could I pass on such a great opportunity to kiss you?” Dean frowns, staring at Cas in confusion. “Oh, c’mon, Dean, you must know by now that I’m not really Cas. Well, not that it matters anyway, you’re on my hands now.” Dean lets his gun fall to the floor with a metallic noise, his control being pulled away from him in a few seconds. “Y’know, it took a lot more to poison you than it should. Not even all the coffees I gave you were enough, so I had to go for plan B: kiss you. You must  _ really _ be in love with this guy or it shouldn’t’ve been so hard; I have never seen anyone like this before.”

Dean can’t do anything but stare at Cas. His brain isn’t working but he knows there’s something wrong; there  _ has _ to be. There’s a feeling in his stomach that he’s missing something, but Dean doesn’t know what it is.

Cas walks to him, one of his hands raising up to cup Dean’s cheek. Dean leans into the touch. “We can stay together forever, Dean. I don’t mind keeping this body at all; it’s pretty hot. And I’ll be everything you want me to, just as you’ll be everything I want you to. Wouldn’t that be great?”

Dean feels himself nodding, placing a hand on top of Cas’s; yeah, it sounds great. He can finally be with Cas, just as he’s been dreaming for months, even  _ years _ now. “What do I have to do?”

The door of the warehouse is kicked open and Cas turns to look at it. Dean turns to follow his gaze, seeing another Cas, a  _ fake _ Cas. His Cas nods at the intruder with a heavy sigh. “You have to kill him.”

Cas steps away from Dean, putting his hands back in his pockets, and Dean walks to where he left his gun fall. He retrieves it, raising his hand to aim at the fake Cas. He shoots once but fake Cas dodges it, throwing himself behind a shelf. “Dean, it’s me!”

Dean shakes his head, shooting again. The bullet ricochets on the metal, the sound echoing through the warehouse. “No, you’re not the real Cas. You’re just trying to get between us.”

“No, Dean,  _ I’m _ the real one.” Castiel shows up, hands raised in surrender. “Dean, you know I’m telling the truth. I know you do.”

“No, you’re not.” Dean shoots again but this Castiel is faster, ducking and rolling to where Dean is, kicking his left leg and making Dean groan in pain.

He lets the gun fall from his hand and Castiel kicks it away. Dean closes his hand into a fist and punches the side of Castiel’s face just to have his hand caught between Castiel’s hand. He tries to pull it, going for a punch on Castiel’s ribs, but Castiel circles his legs around Dean’s and twists them to make Dean fall, and Dean needs to put his hands in front of him not to fall on his face, groaning when his knees hit the ground harshly.

Castiel traps him with his face down, legs on top of his back to stop him from standing up, and Dean feels a sharp pain on his arm, crying out in pain when he sees a knife on his arm. Castiel mutters an apology before pulling it out and Dean groans, raising his hand to press against the wound when Castiel lets him go.

Dean watches as Castiel walks to Cas, blade raised in his hand, and Cas tries to escape, tries to run to the side, but Castiel throws the knife at him, hitting his back exactly where his heart is. Dean cries out, trying to push himself up to run towards Cas, but Castiel holds him, putting his arms around Dean’s chest and holding him in place.

“You killed him,” Dean sobs, sinking to his knees and pulling Castiel with him, staring at Cas, his face turned to him, blood dripping down his mouth.

“Dean, look at me.” Castiel puts his hands on Dean’s face, pulling his head up, forcing him to tear his gaze away from Cas and to make their eyes meet. “He was the siren.  _ I’m _ the real Cas, Dean.  _ Me _ .”

Dean stares at him for a few seconds, then turns to stare at the dead Cas on the floor ahead of them. And Castiel is telling the truth, Dean can see it; the way his eyes are soft and pained, hands gentle as he runs his thumbs over Dean’s cheekbones, in the way he holds Dean. 

The last traces of the venom leave Dean and he can’t believe he got caught in it again; that he  _ let  _ himself be caught in it again. He presses his face against Cas’s chest, tears welling up in his eyes when he thinks he could’ve killed Cas; he really could’ve killed Cas.

Cas only shushes him, running a hand up and down Dean’s back as he pulls him closer. Dean lets himself be held for a while until the pain in his arm gets worse and he groans. Cas pulls away to see Dean pressing his hand against the wound and his eyes widen.

“Come on, we need to get back to the hotel and get this cleaned up.”

Cas helps him stand up, retrieving Dean’s gun before they walk to the door, stepping outside under the cool breeze. Dean shivers, tightening his arms around himself. Cas gets the keys from his pockets, keeping them out of Dean’s reach when Dean tries to get them. 

“Dean, you can’t drive like that.”

Dean shakes his head, trying to get the key. “No way you’re driving Baby.”

“Dean, you’re in no condition to be driving right now and I know how to drive, okay? Come on.”

Cas helps him get into the passenger seat, Dean complaining the entire time while Cas only rolls his eyes. The drive back to the motel is quiet and Dean really appreciates the fact that Cas doesn’t force him to say anything. Not that he knows what he would say anyway; what the hell do you say to someone after something like that happens?  _ So, I know that the siren, who normally shows up as someone you love, looked just like you, but that doesn’t mean anything. _

Dean can’t say that because it’s not that easy, but he also doesn’t want to lie to Cas. It does mean something and the siren itself had sad it;  _ you must really love this guy, I’ve never seen this before. _ And Dean doesn’t know what to do with that information.

When they finally get to the motel, Cas helps Dean walk to the room, settling him in the middle of the bed before going to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. 

Cas hesitates on the door, staring at Dean with low eyes. “Dean, I… I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but I just want to let you know that I don’t care.”

“About what?”

“About the fact that the siren looked like me. I know it doesn’t mean anything, that it probably used me because it knew you would follow it since we’re working together, but—”

“Cas, no.” Cas raises his eyes to stare at him, confusion puckering his forehead. Dean takes a deep breath. “It does mean something. It didn’t look like you just because of that. It… it  _ knew _ that I, that I love you. It said so itself.”

Cas is taken aback, staring at Dean in surprise. “You do?”

“Of course I do.”

Cas smiles softly at him, walking closer and putting the first aid kit on the bed by Dean’s side, but he doesn’t say anything. It makes Dean anxious and he’s not sure what to do, but the fact that Cas is still there and not looking at him with a disgusted expression must be good news. Cas helps Dean pull the shirt over his head, settling behind Dean’s back, fingers tracing the faint scar of his handprint on Dean’s arm. 

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Cas?”

“I love you too.”

Dean blushes, lowering his head as Cas starts to clean the wound. They stay quiet again, Cas carefully taking care of the wound, apologizing every time Dean hisses in pain. Still, Dean has things to say and he knows he should say them before he loses his courage; the hardest part was over, right?

He takes a deep breath before breaking the silence again, “Cas—”

“You don’t have to say anything else, Dean,” Cas cuts him, rubbing alcohol on Dean’s wound carefully.

“I could’ve killed you, Cas. My dumb mistake could’ve gotten both of us killed. I basically let the guy kidnap me.”

Cas puts a hand on Dean’s chin, turning his head to stare at him, his other hand pressed tightly against Dean’s arm, right on top of the faint scar of his handprint. “Dean, you couldn’t have known. It’s okay, I promise.”

Dean sighs, hissing through his teeth when Cas presses a bandage on his wound. “I’m still sorry, Cas. I really am.”

Cas closes the first aid kit and sits in front of him, keeping one hand on Dean’s arm as he smiles softly. “I know you are.” 

He inches closer to Dean, his other hand taking one of Dean’s. Dean intertwines their fingers, staring into Cas’s eyes. How couldn’t have he known that it was the siren? No one could ever copy Cas’s eyes, doesn’t matter how much they try and that alone should’ve been enough to make Dean know the truth.

They stay in silence for a while and Dean wants to get closer to Cas so much, to actually taste his lips, not a copy of them, to feel Cas pressing against him with all of his warmth.

“I know this isn’t probably the best time,” Cas croaks a while later, staring at Dean’s lips before raising his gaze back up. “But… can I kiss you?”

Dean smiles, sliding forward until their noses touch. “I thought you would never ask.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, did you like it? Leave a comment and a kudo to make this writer very happy.
> 
> As always, you can find me on [ Tumblr](https://gii-heylittleangel.tumblr.com/)


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